


The Good In The World

by Carefulhappenings



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Aranea play starts therapist, Cheering Up, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, Lots of kissing, New Relationship, She can be nice when she wants to, Smut, sensual
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-04-02
Packaged: 2019-04-17 04:54:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14181147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carefulhappenings/pseuds/Carefulhappenings
Summary: Sometimes you need to remind people that there’s still good in the world.Rating is for chapter 2.





	The Good In The World

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my very very fluffy 3rd foray into Highspecs. I hope you guys enjoy. This chapter is totally SFW and is just lots of kissing, the next chapter will be slightly NSFW.

Aranea finds him when he most needs it. When he is drifting, purposeless with no Noctis to take care of and the inability to accompany Gladio and Prompto on hunts. Aranea finds Ignis at his weakest point, but she doesn’t pity him.

Instead, she trains him.

She teaches his how to utilize hearing rather than eyesight, to listen for footsteps to determine aim.

She builds him back up, brick by painstaking brick, and soon they have fallen into an easy friendship.

She spars with him every morning, and never lets him win. He was frustrated at first, but grew to appreciate her tough attitude. He wouldn’t be half the fighter he was today without her.

Aranea knows all of this. So when he begins the morning in a rotten mood and with a deep frown painted on his face, she knows that something is wrong. She stops their sparring when she sees that he is sloppier than usual, that he is not countering as expertly as he has been trained.

“What’s the matter, specs?” She tries to be nonchalant. She knows he doesn’t like to be fussed over.

“Nothing,” he replies curtly. “Continue on.”

“Aw c’mon,” she laughs, still trying to be casual. After all, she was practically raised on sarcasm.

“There is NOTHING going on, Aranea.”

Her demeanor changes on a dime when she senses his anger. “I know something’s up,” she says as she approaches him. “You can talk to me.”  
She scolds herself for her piss poor comfort skills. Could she sound any cornier?

“I’m. Fine.” Ignis’s voice is sharp and the edges, a warning, almost. 

“Ignis...” she reaches out and touches a hand to his shoulder, a feather light touch meant to facilitate trust. Instead, he jerks away from her.

“Aranea, please.” His tone is angry, but she can hear the hint of sadness underneath.

“Please let me...” she starts.

He cuts her off. “Stop.” He drops his lance and marches off towards the barracks, leaving her alone.

“Asshole,” she grumbles under her breath, before letting out a huff of breath and plopping down on one of the benches on the training grounds.

.............................................................................

“We’re going to dinner,” Aranea unceremoniously announces her presence in his room later on.

“I’d rather not,” He retorts.

“It wasn’t a question.”

Ignis can feel the mattress dip beside him as she sits down next to him on the bed. His bad mood has lifted slightly since earlier, but he is still in no state of mind to go out.

“I don’t like seeing you like this, dampens the mood, y’know?” Aranea says. She still desperately wants to somehow make him laugh, but her voice is soft, not as demanding as before. “Please,” she whispers, and places a hand over his.

Maybe it’s her perfume, or the way her soft hand feels atop his, or the simple fact that he needs comforting, but he feels his walls beginning to crack.

“Fine,” he whispers, barely audible. He knows that she can hear him, though. She grabs him by the hand and pulls him up and through the door. He dimly registers that they’re technically holding hands before she jostles him out the door and into a waiting taxi, shaking the thought from his mind.

Aranea is hell-bent on cheering Ignis up. She doesn’t know what has him in this odd mood, but she is determined to find out and help him, in whatever way she can. However much she pretends to be invincible and unfeeling, she can’t deny that she cares about Ignis, and seeing him in such a funk hurts her. She can shed her snarky exterior for the night.

Neither says a word to the other on the short ride to the restaurant. Aranea chose the nicest place she could find that was close enough to the barracks, a little Italian place that had good cocktails and killer food. As she takes her seat across from Ignis, she realizes that to anybody else in the area, they probably looked as if they were on a date. For some reason, that doesn’t bother her as much as she thinks it should.

She orders a Martini for herself and a glass of Merlot for Ignis, waits for their arrival, then turns to him.

“Spill,” she orders, and the smooth sound of her voice draws the words out of him before he even realizes they’ve escaped from his throat.

“Noctis left a year ago today.”

“Oh Ignis,” she sighs.

He takes a long sip of his wine. “I don’t like being babied, or fussed over, pitied.” He is angry at her, but even he can’t quite pinpoint why.

Aranea lets his anger wash over her, impervious to it. She is simply determined get to the root of the issue, to coax out a smile, even. Who knew, she muses to herself, that she’d be playing therapist.

He catches her off guard when he continues without encouragement. She sips her drink slowly while he talks.

“Every day that goes by without Noct feels more and more hopeless. We all thought he would be back by now, that we’d finally have a sunrise.” He chuckles bitterly at that. “Not that I’d be able to see it.”

She can see the obvious sadness in his once vibrant, now glazed over eyes. 

“A whole year has gone by,” he continues, “and I’m starting to wonder if he’s ever coming back to pull us out of hell.”

Aranea has no words. Instead she moves from her side of their small booth over to his, and without a sound, wraps her arms around him and squeezes tight. She can feel him stiffen at first before he leans into her embrace, and it occurs to her that they are very close. A fierce blush dusts her cheeks. For once she is thankful that Ignis can’t see her. 

We’re just friends, she tells herself. I’m just supporting him, like a good friend.

“Let’s take a walk,” she suggests. She thinks the fresh air may help clear out the emotional overflow both of them are experiencing. She waves the waiter over and asks for the check. She knows it’s an asshole move to leave without eating, but she hopes her tip makes up for it.

The streetlights outside provide a soft glow as they stroll down the sidewalk. The air is chilly, but refreshing, and Aranea finds herself wishing she had brought gloves. Without thinking, she reaches out and grabs Ignis’s hand. The same blush colors her face again, but she heaves a sigh of relief when he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he cradles her small hand in his large one as she leads him along. 

“You know, we all miss him,” She remarks. Silence. “The world doesn’t have to stop turning because he’s gone. Sometimes there are shitty days and shitty feelings, and it’s ok to be sad sometimes, but to be honest Ignis, it really does hurt me to see you so upset, so upset with me, it seems.” She cuts herself off before she babbles in too much. “I just want you to know that it’s going to be okay,” she simply states.

Ignis gives her hand a soft squeeze and finally, beautifully smiles. “Thank you,” he says softly. Aranea doesn’t think she’s ever seen or heard anything more beautiful. 

When they reach the street corner, she pulls him so that he’s facing her, and grabs his other hand. He doesn’t hesitate in taking it, and they stand in silence for a moment.

Before she can stop herself, and before she even really knows what she’s doing, Aranea is on her tiptoes, centimeters away from his lips. She prays that he doesn’t pull away, that she is making the right move, and gently, ever so softly, melds her lips to his.

He tastes of red wine and sweet cherries, and she thinks she has never tasted anything so delicious in her lifetime. His hand releases hers to cradle the back of her head while he leans down, so she can stand flat on her feet while he moves his lips against hers in a way that makes the rest of the world fall away. They are finally brought back to reality by a honking car and a teenager leering at them.

“Get a room, assholes!” He yells. This time, they both blush, and she can’t help but think that he looks especially lovely with pink creeping up his neck and flooding his cheeks. Neither of them particularly know what to say, but both know that some kind of boundary has been crossed, that they are past the point of friendship and they can’t go back now.

Aranea is the first to break the heavy silence. “Sometimes the world can be good, even now.” She simply states, as if it is an inarguable fact. She reaches up and runs a finger across Ignis’s jawline, feeling the slight stubble where he missed shaving. The action is intimate and comforting, and sets off fireworks in her stomach.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks simply in return.

She answers the question for him as she leans in to close the gap between them once more. This time Ignis takes the lead, and the kiss is somehow gentler than the first, as if he’s scared she might break underneath his touch. She doesn’t mind, though. She accomplished what she had set out to do.

“Are you...” she searches for the right words. “Are you feeling better?” She scolds herself. She sounds like she’s talking to a sick child.

Ignis cracks another smile, one that overtakes his whole face, and grabs both of her hands again.

“I think you’ve shown me what’s good in my world,” he smiles down at her. 

“Likewise,” she chuckles. 

They spend the taxi ride home in silence, but this time it’s is comfortable, punctuated by lingering kisses and the pressure of his hand grasping hers.

Maybe the world isn’t so shitty after all, they both muse.


End file.
